


Tell You My Sins

by amethyst_dreams



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Blasphemy, Church Sex, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Fucking, Nun!Natasha, Priest!Bruce, Rough Oral Sex, but not underage, i'm so sorry for writing this lmao, it's okay i'm catholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethyst_dreams/pseuds/amethyst_dreams
Summary: Natasha can't stop thinking about Bruce--The priest/nun!AU nobody asked for!





	Tell You My Sins

Natasha was fourteen years old when she decided she would be a nun. She’d been living in the catholic orphanage since she was eight; her parents dying in a car crash and no one left to care for her. The sisters’ there were kind and loving, dedicated to a cause greater than any other. Natasha found a home there, and she had no intention of leaving it. 

Now, at the age of twenty-three, Natasha is only two years away from making her final vows and becoming fully devoted and married to Christ. It’s everything she could have ever wanted or dreamed of and yet…

She continuously finds herself needing to pray and repent for her thoughts. She’s never felt like this, this…this doubt in her head making her second guess and reconsider. Does she abandon everything she ever stood for, for a man who would never look twice at her? Or does she stay, stay close to him and silently torture herself until she either dies or gets over her feelings. 

Being a woman in love is taxing. 

So she prays every spare chance she gets, she’s been praying so much Sister Alyssia is actually starting to like her (Sister Alyssia likes no one but God.) But all Natasha wants is clarity. Or some type of sign. She debated for a hot minute if she should finish her vows and then pack up and move to a different parish, but St. Joseph’s is her home and no man will ever make her leave, except for maybe the Big Guy upstairs. 

Please, Lord, give me some type of hint, a sign, anything. Give me the strength to survive this, to get past this, to move on. My heart can only take so much and Father Ba-

-

The heavy mahogany doors at the back of the church slam shut, startling Natasha from where she kneels at the altar, a lit candle before her. Walking towards her was a man twelve years her senior, curly brown hair loose around his forehead and ears, a pair of black rimmed glasses atop his nose. Natasha’s heart stops then goes into overtime, her face flushing. 

“Father Banner, you frightened me,” Natasha lets loose a nervous giggle, inwardly rolling her eyes at what a pathetic lovestruck school girl she sounds like. 

“I apologize, Sister Natasha,” Bruce’s green eyes sparkle in the dim light around them. Natasha takes a sick pleasure in calling Father Banner, Bruce, in her head; the taboo of it all. Bruce takes the few final steps to stop in front of Natasha’s altar, her still kneeling at his feet. “I didn’t expect to see anyone here tonight. Aren’t the other sisters taking the children to see the new Pixar movie?” 

“Uh, yes,” Natasha flushes harder, standing up so as not to literally be eye to eye with Father Banner’s genital...region. “I didn’t go. Um, I’ve been volunteering at Blessed Sacrament so much this past week, I feel like I had no quality prayer time.” That isn’t a total lie, but it isn’t the total truth either. Yes, Natasha had been going to their sister church a lot to help after a stomach bug went around and the nuns there were recovering, but Natasha chose to stay in the hopes of seeing Bruce as well as to pray. She is a a sick, conflicted woman, she knows. 

Bruce lets out a small chuckle, “Nat, you don’t have to sit in and pray all the time, it’s not a sin to see a Disney movie.” Natasha’s insides light up at the nickname. Bruce has become so informal with her recently when the two of them are alone, it makes her squirm to think about it. He pats her on the upper arm, just below her shoulder, “go on the next outing with the kids, I think you need it as much as they do.” 

“Next week we’re taking them to the zoo, I think,” a piece of her long red hair comes loose from her bonnett and she immediately wraps a finger around it, a nervous tick Sister Alyssia never got her to quit. “I’ll chaperone that field trip.” 

“Ah, Prospect Park Zoo,” Bruce makes a show of overthinking it before scrunching his nose, “You should have done the movie trip.”

Natasha lets out a loud laugh, almost cackle like, laughing too hard at his joke like all dumbstruck bimbos do in romantic comedies. She can’t make herself stop though, giggling along as he bashfully smiles down at her. Natasha wants nothing more to bite and lick at that smile, suck on his tongue and lips until he moans into her mouth, and she hates herself for it. 

Her giggles peter off, and she licks her lips, mouth suddenly dry. Bruce’s eyes dart down to her mouth, watching as her tongue licks over her lips, wettening them to a petal pink. Natasha’s heart stops before rapidly speeding up. 

She’s no idiot, she knows what she looks like. Natasha went through puberty in the orphanage, going from not needing a training bra to practically a double-D overnight. The bread and carbs she ate went straight to her hips and ass, rounding them out and fattening them up to Nicki Minaj like assets. She knew eyes were big, her lips pouty (a boy in her senior bio class called them dick-sucking lips and Natasha punched him before locking herself in the bathroom and crying for an hour.) She knows that Sister Alyssia didn’t start disliking her until her tits came in and her hips were perfect child bearing ones, that Sister Alyssia believes women of God should be plain and reserved and despite not wearing makeup or enhancing her features at all, Natasha was anything but plain. 

Bruce looking at her so called DSLs, his eyes darkening as he does so makes Natasha want to cower and cry, but also crow in relief, like Peter Pan. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth for a second before releasing it glistening in saliva and Bruce’s eyes darken even more as his pupils expand. 

Bruce coughs, then coughs again as he resolutely does not make eye contact with Natasha. “I should--uh, I should head to bed.” It was 7:30 on a Wednesday night. “Maybe start writing my homily for next week.” He scratches the back of his neck, still not looking at her as he turns away. 

“Wait,” Natasha’s hand shoots out to his, stopping him. She laces their fingers together and takes the few and final steps to him, bringing them chest to chest. Her heart is beating so fast she can see her chest heaving with every breath she takes. She traces his fingers, so much thicker and longer than hers, delicately touching the digits and then tracing the life and love lines on his palms. She feels possessed, has no idea what becomes of her, but she can’t stop. 

“Natasha, what are you doing?” Bruce’s voice is a whisper, afraid to break the trance over them. He makes no move to stop her or pull away. 

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head even as she steps infinitesimally closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest. If they were naked they would be skin to skin and Natasha wants that more than she has ever wanted anything. 

“We can’t…” He trails off, cupping Natasha’s jaw with his free hand, his thumb sweeping over her cheek. 

“We can though,” Natasha looks into his eyes, determined more than ever. “I was praying for a sign when you came in tonight. For help on how to deal with my feelings for you and then there you were. The answer to my prayers.” She lets go of his hand, lacing both of hers through his curls bringing his forehead down to meet hers. “How can we resist when God is telling us to be together.” 

They’re so close, the closest Natasha has ever been to someone. She can feel his breath on her lips, his exhales as she inhales. He’s silent for a moment, neither of them moving before he lets out a groan and then closes the distance between them. 

Natasha gasps into the kiss, opening her mouth for his tongue as he licks and kisses her bottom lip. Natasha whimpers, this is her first real kiss, unless she includes a truly awkward kiss with Clint Barton when she was sixteen--which she tries not to remember. Bruce is sucking her bottom lip, biting and licking as he goes. He fucks his tongue into her mouth, a crude imitation of what Natasha wants. 

His hands roam her body, ghosting everywhere at once, as if Bruce can’t make up his mind about where to keep them. Natasha feels as if she is on fire, melting from the inside out as she continues to kiss Bruce, licking and sucking on his tongue, imitating what she’s seen in movies, (and yes, porn. She’s becoming a nun, not dead.) She feels as if her body is suddenly too big for her skin, she’s ready to claw her way out and become one with Bruce. Bruce’s fingers tangle in her hair, knocking the bonnett off her head and pulling on her curly red hair. She moans, her head lolling back on her neck as Bruce kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking and biting as he goes.   
He’s marking me, Natasha thinks hysterically. She’s never had a hickey, and now the man of her dreams, of her obsessions, is marking her as his own. A gush of heat rushes to her pussy, slick dampening her panties and her inner thighs. 

“Bruce…” Natasha breathes out, Bruce’s hands cupping her ass suddenly and roughly. He squeezes each cheek, digging his nails in hard and making Natasha moan in mixed pain and pleasure. He lifts her up, and Natasha automatically wraps her legs around his waist, as if her body is on autopilot and knows what to do, despite her mind freaking out. 

“I wanna get you out of this. I wanna see you.” Bruce yanks on the hem of her tunic dress, now bunched up around her thighs because Natasha is wrapped around Bruce’s waist. She can steadily feel herself get wetter and wetter, as Bruce kisses the side of her mouth, mumbling still about how he wants her naked in front of him, wants to see her bare and laid out. 

He carries her the few feet over to a pew, dropping her down onto the seat and kneeling before her. “Lift,” he says, dragging her habit over her head when she lifts her arms in the air, he throws it over his shoulder, not caring where it goes as he stares hungrily at her body. Natasha’s embarrassed as he just stares at her, and she wishes she was wearing something sexier than a tan bra and white underwear. There’s a little bit of lace on both, but her undergarments are nothing compared to what a lingerie model would wear. 

Bruce just stares at her still, his left hand palming the sizable bulge in his black slacks and Natasha’s eyes widen. Throughout all of this, Natasha’s pulsing cunt and the bruising kisses, she never stops to think of what Bruce’s arousal is doing to him, and now she is face to face with the large imprint of his hard dick and Natasha is ashamed and thrilled to note that her mouth waters at the sight. She can feel her panties get stickier. 

Natasha takes a deep breath, it’s now or never, she reasons with herself and goddamn does she want it now. She reaches behind her to unhook her bra, it falls into her lap and her breasts fall free, full and flushed as she takes in a heaving breath as Bruce’s eyes darken even more. 

“Fuck, Nat, you’re so sexy,” He lunges forward to suckle her tit into his mouth, a hand coming up to pinch and knead at her other breast. He squeezes and he bites, licks and massages, assaulting each breast in turn with his hands and mouth. Natasha moans, the acoustics in the empty church making it echo in the silence. 

He kisses down her sternum, licking into her bellybutton and Natasha giggle-gasps at the sensation. He sucks a kiss to the sensitive skin before continuing down her body, avoiding the area she desperately wants him to kiss. Bruce spreads her legs obscenely, like she was a common whore off the street and Natasha thinks for a hysterical moment if there even was a difference between them. He kisses love bites onto her inner thighs, marking her as his even more. As if Natasha could ever forget that. 

From between her thighs Bruce looks up at her, mouth still on the sensitive skin of her upper thighs. The two lock eyes and with a hoarse voice, as if he was even more desperate for it than she was, Bruce asks, “can I?” 

Natasha nods before she even knows what she is agreeing to. Yes, he can. He can do anything to her, her body is more his in this moment than it is hers. She will gladly hand herself over to him, devote herself to him if he asked. It isn’t even a question to her. “Yes!” 

Bruce licks over her panties where they are the dampest, gentle kitten licks that are barely there pressure. Natasha can’t help the whimpers escaping her mouth, some soft and some wanton moans that even biting her lip cannot repress. Bruce licks harder against her, the cotton and his tongue against her swollen clit a sensation she could never have even dreamed off. 

“Off--Bruce….off,” Natasha’s hips buck up into his face as she mumbles, hoping he understands her. He stops kissing her cunt only to surge back up to kiss her, open mouthed and sloppy as they pant into each others mouth and lick their tongues together. Bruce rips, literally rips, her underwear off, as if Natasha needs another reason to be ridiculously attracted to him. 

“Lie back,” He pushes gently against her shoulder, until she is lying supine on the pew, her knees hanging off the end still. Natasha looks up at the domed ceiling, one she has seen hundreds of times but never like this. From her periphery she can see her bruised chest heaving with each pant she takes, her nipples glistening with his spit and pebbled from her arousal and the cold. She closes her eyes, waiting for his next move, anticipation almost killing her before she feels the warm heavy breath of him against her sopping pussy. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” He sounds in awe, almost amazed at how wet her cunt is for him. She flushes all down her chest as he gently traces a finger along her folds, his hands getting sticky with her slick. “A nice, juicy wet cunt for me. Hot and tight,” He pushes two fingers into her, fucking them in past any resistance her virgin cunt still had. She shakes with pleasure and with some pain, the width of his fingers thicker than hers the few times she did this to herself. He fucks her with his two fingers, rocking them in and out of her, her inner thighs and ass getting slippery with every out stoke. 

He suctions onto her clit, sucking hard before releasing the bundle of nerves, licking around her and up her juices. Natasha can’t stop moaning; his name, God’s name, little whimpers and swears as he eats her out and fingers her, adding another finger as more of her juice gushes down her cunt and thighs. 

“You’re so fucking messy,” He looks up at her, his chin drenched in her slick, and Natasha flushes. “A gusher of a cunt. You taste so good. I can’t get enough.” To prove his point he dives back in, tongue fucking into her cunt, licking between his fingers. He eats her out with vigor, nose bumping against her clit and sending small frissions of energy down her spine.

Natasha’s toes curl and she lets out an un-Godly scream when his fingers brush up against something inside of her, something she never managed to touch on her own because of the angle and sore wrists and guilty consciences. Bruce rubs her g-spot, hot little circles against that soft bundle of nerves, eliciting whimpers and whines with every rotation. 

“You like that, baby?” He asks in between licking and biting at her thighs. 

Natasha doesn’t remember when he moved his mouth from her cunt to her legs, she can barely keep track of what’s happening. She’s overwhelmed with sensation and feeling, arousal so hot and deep, like nothing she could have ever dreamed of. She nods her head anyway, trying to keep up as he rubs faster inside her, fucking in and out of her, a squelching noise every thrust out. 

“Like it when I rub you deep? You’re so hot and tight around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel your virgin cunt around my dick.” He sucks hard at her clit and then bites down and the pain sends her over the edge. A gush of slick, her toes curling, her body arching off the pew; Natasha comes harder than she ever has, chanting Bruce’s name like it’s the Lord’s prayer. Her eyes roll back in her head and she can feel her body convulsing still as he continues to rub his fingers deep inside her, licking up the pussy juice around his fingers and what slicks down her thighs. 

“Holy fuck,” Natasha whispers once she regains her breath. Her chest is flushed all the way to her navel, her legs trembling still with the force of her orgasm. 

“God, Nat,” Bruce mumbles, surging up from where he still kneel before her to kiss and bite at her lips. He tastes like her, Natasha thinks as his tongue licks into her mouth, and she opens wider, gladly sucking herself off his tongue. She runs her hands through his hair, down his shoulders, grabbing at the material of his black button down shirt. With a jolt she realizes she is completely naked and he is still fully clothed. It shouldn’t be hot but it sends another gush of arousal to her still slick cunt.   
He kisses down her jaw, her neck; he kisses at the corners of her mouth and licks at the seam. Natasha can barely kiss back, she’s breathing too heavily with anticipation and arousal. She wants him inside of her, stretching her wide and fucking her sore. 

“Br-Bruce,” She mumbles against his mouth, not able to seperate long enough to tell him what she needs. He seems to get the message though, or maybe they’re just on the same page but not ten seconds later she hears him fumble with his belt and zipper, the shuffling as he pulls his pants down to mid-thigh. 

Bruce does pull back from her, and Natasha whines at the loss of his plush mouth on hers. She watches as he kneels on the pew between her spread legs, Natasha throwing one of her legs over the back of the pew to make more room. As she settles she gets her first look at his cock, erect and dripping precum before her. Not the longest dick she’s ever seen--thanks porn--but a decent seven or eight inches long. He is wide though, so fat and thick, veins prominent on the sides and under the bulbous head. Natasha’s mouth waters and she tries to spread her legs even wider, damn it all if she looks like a desperate whore. At this point she is one. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, so sincere as he looks into her eyes, his own face flushed and sweaty; brown eyes almost black with arousal. Natasha nods, not trusting herself to speak. 

He runs the head of his dick along her folds, presses against her clit for one hot second before dragging himself down her cunt and pushing in hard and fast into her tight pussy. Natasha feels like she’s been punched, as all the breath whooshes out of her and she can’t breath, can’t think as he stretches her wider and wider, fucking himself into the hilt his balls slapping against her ass. He doesn’t move, let’s her adjust to the width and length inside of her. Natasha can see the strain on him, how red his face his, veins in his neck prominent as he holds his breath. 

“You can move,” Natasha says, her voice thin and reedy. She’s not sure if she’s actually ready but she needs him to move, needs him to fuck her for real. He presses their mouths together, grabs hold of her leg that is hanging off the side of the pew to wrap around his waist and then pulls all the way out, quickly fucking back in. Natasha screams. 

He continues with the brutal pace, fucking in and out so roughly Natasha sees spots. She’s gasping for air and her tits are bouncing with every thrust. Her moans are wanton and loud and she has never felt so alive in her life. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” Bruce says, his voice deeper than she ever heard before. “Like your cunt was made for my dick. Your body made for me to use. Wanna fuck you all the time, use your little pussy anytime I want. Bend you over at breakfast and fuck you until you can’t walk, get your cunt all messy and fill you with my cum.”   
Natasha throws her head back, banging it hard against the pew seat but she didn’t care. She can barely breathe with how rough he was taking her, his hips pistoning in fast and hard, gyrating every few thrusts so the tip of his dick barely brushed her g-spot. But with the words he mumbled against her ear, her mouth, she was losing it completely. She never thought she would be one to like dirty talk, hell she never thought Bruce would be one for dirty talk but he was getting to her like nothing before. She could feel how slippery and wet the words were making her. He didn’t seem aware of the words that came out of his mouth, to focused on fucking her. 

Bruce drops his hands down to her ass, and he lifts her even higher around his waist, changing the angle so he was fucking her deeper and hitting her g-spot with every thrust in now. Natasha lets out a strangled moan. 

“Yeah, baby girl, feel how tight you are. How stretched your virgin pussy is around my fat cock?” Bruce brings one hand up to circle where his cock entered her cunt, pressing a finger where he stretches her out. “Love that I’m the first one to claim you. That makes this pussy mine.” 

“Yours, I’m yours Bruce, only yours!” Natasha whimpers, squeezing tight around him inside her. She’s humping up into him, her body moving on its own volition as she chases another orgasm. She can feel it building up, with every thrust and kiss, every time he squeezes her ass cheeks, or bites the side of her neck. 

“Fuck you are! Baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good, next time I’ll take you from behind, let me watch this fat ass bounce on my cock when you ride me. I’ll even take your asshole too, will you let me fuck that tight little asshole, baby girl?” Bruce suckles at her tits between words, biting her erect nipples and sucking on them to get them sloppy with his spit. “Your tits are amazing, Nat, wanna fuck these too. Can’t get enough of your body.” 

“Yes, Bruce! Yes!” Natasha doesn’t know what she’s saying yes to, but whatever he wants he can have. He thrusts into her, a hard thrust that sends her body an inch up the pew, a thrust that hits that sensitive bundle deep inside of her, a thrust that coincides with him biting her nipple and smacking her ass cheek and she comes.   
Her orgasm overtakes her stronger than the first time, her body trembling as she whines and whimpers, tightens around his hardness inside of her. She moans his name, a prayer more holy than any she has said before, and she comes and comes on his dick, in utter ecstasy. 

It could last ten seconds or ten hours, but when she comes to, Bruce is sucking on her neck, forming another hickey to claim her as his. He had pulled out of her after her climax, during her come down when she had been moaning nonsensically. He goes to push back in, but halfway into her Natasha squeals, bringing her legs closed tight so he can’t move. 

“Sorry,” Natasha apologizes. “More sensitive this time.” She doesn’t want to look at him, afraid he will be disappointed. She feels him press a kiss to the side of her head. 

“Baby, baby, you’re okay.” He tugs under her chin, bringing her face to meet his. “You don’t have to apologize.” He kisses her three times, short little reassuring pecks that make her giddy with happiness. 

“You’re still hard, though! How do you want me? I want you to finish.” Natasha blushes at her own words, despite having him inside her moments ago, despite being the one to start this whole thing. He makes her nervous, but in the best way possible. 

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” His voice is rough, and Natasha can’t imagine the self control he has right now. She pats her chest.

“Kneel over me, fuck my face?” She watched a video once, where a man kneeled over a girl’s chest and skull fucked her that way. Natasha imagined that was her more times than she could count, and she wants Bruce that way. To feel completely helpless and owned as he uses her for his own pleasure. 

He doesn’t ask to double check, he shuffles up her body, knees underneath her armpits. His cock is an angry red in front of her face, slicked wet from her cunt and dripping even more pearly precum at the tip. Bruce doesn’t ask if she’s ready, just sloppily traces her pouty swollen lips with the head of his dick, getting her mouth messy before pushing in. He threads his hands through her hair, holding her head up as his hips thrust erratically down her throat. He’s close. 

“Your mouth is so hot, fuck. Such a tight throat. Can’t believe you let me do this, fuck your throat like a pussy.” He pushes down deeper, pulling her close and Natasha gags. Bruce doesn’t stop and she’s thankful. She wants him to make her choke and gag on his dick. He tastes and smells so good, she’s in heaven, her mouth watering as she sucks as best she could. Opening her throat as wide for him as she can. 

“Fuck, babe, I’m so close. Gonna cum in your mouth and down your throat. Cum all over your face, make you so messy. You’re gorgeous, Nat, sucking me down, mouth wide around my cock. Fuck!” Bruce’s thrusts got faster, skull fucking Natasha rougher and harder. If she hadn’t just come, Natasha bets she would have come again, Bruce makes her so hot. 

He fucks deep into her throat, balls slapping hard against her chin as he grinds in and then with a whisper of her name, Bruce comes. The hot, saltry ropes of his come hit the back of her throat and then he pulls out, coming on her lips and jaw, some of it spurting up to hit her cheeks and eye. He jacks himself to completion on her face, milking out the last spurts onto her lips so she can lick and taste him. Natasha opens her mouth and sucks the head of his dick, relishing the curses he mutters and the salty, musky taste of his dick.

“Fuck, Natasha, you’re amazing.” Bruce collapses onto the pew beside her head, chest still heaving beneath his shirt. He never took it off, and his pants are bunched around his thighs. 

Natasha giggles, then straddles his thighs. She can feel this softening dick underneath her own sticky and wet thighs. She kisses him before he can say anything, or start to regret what happened now that the heat of the moment is over. 

“Thank you,” She says against his lips, licking into his mouth as his hands trail over her body, one stopping to grope her tit, the other groping her ass. 

They kiss for minutes or hours, Natasha lost in the feeling of him underneath her before Bruce groans, pulling away from her lips. “I’m never gonna be able to stop thinking about you now.” The words are regretful, but there is a playful twinkle in his eyes. A promise of a next time. 

“Good.” Natasha says, before kissing him again once more and then climbing off his lap. 

She goes to pick up her underwear and habit, bending down so he has a perfect view of her ass and the the little puckered muscle he promised to fuck next time. Natasha hears him groan behind her. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Natasha looks over her shoulder at him, still flushed but his dick is put back in his pants at least, and she winks. 

Bruce walks over to her, dragging his thumb down the side of her face, caressing her gently yet possessive as he holds her chin between thumb and forefinger. 

“I think I might have need for you in my office tomorrow, after morning prayers?” 

“It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from, shockingly, hozier's "take me to church".   
> this is what happens when you spend 7 years in ccd and then 4 years at catholic high school, watch too much netflix's daredevil and want to write nat/bruce. don't worry i have enough catholic guilt for all of us. 
> 
> tumblr: aamethyst-dreamss


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